


Restrained

by SeverinadeStrango



Category: Sengoku Basara
Genre: Akechi Mitsuhide is His Own Warning, Character Death, Consumption, Elements of Horror, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Masochism, Supernatural Elements, Unhealthy fixations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 17:59:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19234261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeverinadeStrango/pseuds/SeverinadeStrango
Summary: His last act is one of service and submission, as is truly befitting such a loyal vassal.





	Restrained

He would not have wanted to die any other way than impaled here, Nobunaga’s hands sliding over him, consuming him, eating away at his very flesh and bone. His sight had gone hours ago his hearing was likely close to follow but if the heavens were merciful his sense of touch would go last. The serrated blade had been wrenched out of his poor mortal body, dropped below into the unending darkness – he would not look for it. It was useless either way. He felt another chilling finger – bigger than his head? It was prodding at the torn edges of the gaping wound that ran through his torso, he could hardly feel the _rest_ of his own body amidst the engulfing reach of his Lord.

_Nobunaga-kou immortalize me_

This was what he wanted. This was the ultimate state of ecstasy maybe maybe this moment could last forever – _could_ he do that, having now returned from the dead, from the very circles of hell itself made up of cold hands torn fabric against shivering skin and limbs and his own unending desire to experience this more deeply more intensely _more_ everything.

Ridiculous absurd wilted flower. I am your wilted thing regardless my Lord. He did not know how he would have responded had he still had his old name and life had Nobunaga still sat on that throne, upturned skull in hand. But what he did know was that _this_ right here right now surpassed every twinging thrill that had ever risen up within him before.

At last he would become one. Cease this foolish charade Mitsuhide. He would have laughed if his tongue had still been his own to move. That name had been shed from him like a snake’s sloughed skin some time ago and probably trampled underfoot as such. He was not Akechi Mitsuhide. He was not even Tenkai, not anymore, and he stepped away from it willingly, blindly, with open arms. 

The shadowy, chilling fingers tore into him from the inside out and as he screamed one last time, it was a sound of joy.


End file.
